The Soldier and the Sorceress
by insensato
Summary: War is looming in Gotham. Trigon the Terrible is coming. Will Prince Richard and his fellow fighters be able to push back and defeat the forces of Azarath? And who is that mysterious violethaired sorceress? CH.3 up!
1. Chapter 1

**T H E . S O L D I E R . a n d . T H E . S O R C E R E S S**

_a chaptered story by insensato_

disclaimer: teen titans will never be mine for the taking

_new story. it's going to be set in like a historical period but i am really bad at like writing dialogues in like a historical way, so an advanced sorry for any like modern terms or stuff. i tried, i really did. oh yeah i made beast boy a lot younger than the other characters cuz it's just really hard for me to figure out how to characterize him so i figured he'd make a better little kid hehe._

* * *

Richard Grayson was a soldier first, and prince second, to the dismay of his adopted parents, King Bruce and Queen Diana, but not to his adoring bevy of prepubescent girls. Think about it, who in their right mind would prefer to be on the front lines in the battlefield rather than ensconced safely within the sturdy walls of their fortress? Despite the King and Queen's somewhat unfounded worries--the prince was a powerful and cunning fighter on the fields--Richard's choice to be fighting alongside his men had the girls swooning over his courage and built physique. 

Whenever the King or Queen were in need of their son, they needed only to seek out Richard's adoring fans who could be seen and heard from miles away. In the summers, it was especially easy to find the prince. All they had to do was listen for high-pitched giggles and collective moans and breathy sighs.

Most of the time, the girls would be flocked around the newly-erected fence which had been built specifically to deter them from coming too close, watching their beloved train, often with his shirt off. This gave them a delicious opportunity to see how well-built their love interest was, to see how his muscles worked seamlessly beneath his perfect tanned skin. His chest would quiver with exhaustion, and the nearest girls could even see the beads of sweat collect on his hairless torso. Needless to say, Richard was a fine specimen of the male physique at its best.

Fortunately for Richard's close friends and his adopted parents, all the attention had not gone to his head. He remained the same down-to-earth person he was: brave, considerate and well-grounded. If he changed, they wouldn't have known what to do with a pretty-boy who was more concerned with primping than pumping iron.

"Prince Richard!" A ten-year-old boy called out as he scurried towards the prince. He was somewhat small for his age and lean, with a messy top of light brown hair and mischievous emerald eyes. When he wasn't on duty as a page of sorts for the prince, he was often busy engineering pranks to pull on the people he knew. Initially they would be enraged, then embarassed, and then finally laugh alongside him at their own silliness to fall for such a joke.

Richard looked up and smiled when he saw the little boy. "What is it Garfield?"

"Sirs Victor and Roy have need of ye," Garfield answered, his eyes respectfully directed down to the stone floors. "They be a'waiting in the tactical room."

The twenty-year-old prince nodded. "Many thanks Garfield."

Garfield ran off and Richard made his way to the tactical room. The heavy wooden door was slightly ajar, and he could hear voices arguing heatedly. The prince stepped in and the conversation stopped.

"Don't," Richard immediately said and was surprised when Victor Stone and Roy Harper, his two most trusted men, didn't do their customary exchange of smirks. They liked to annoy him every now and then by bowing and calling him exaggerated exalted names. But now, they weren't. Instead they had troubled looks on their faces. "What's the news?"

Victor straightened. He was a tall brawny man and just as well-built as the prince. His skin was dark like wood, and his voice was gravelly and low. A lot of people found him menacing due to his burly figure, but the prince's second man was really a fun-lover who could be found in the kitchens, for he liked to cook. "We have reports regarding Trigon the Terrible."

Trigon the Terrible was a vicious, coldhearted king who ruled over Azarath, a desolate mountainous realm to the north. He killed anybody and everybody who interfered or irritated him. It was even reputed that he had a network of torture camps established throughout his kingdom for the poor souls who remained.

Roy nodded sharply. He was similar in build and height to the prince, but he had a shock of red hair and unlike the prince's steel blue eyes, Roy had aquamarine eyes. He was Richard's third man. "It's said that he's building an army to wage an attack against our kingdom and our allies as well. I believe he's planning conquest."

Richard sucked in his breath. "There will be a war then." Months' worth of mounting rumors and suspicions would finally culminate in a massive war. Bloodshed. Death.

"It looks to be that way," Roy said gravely. "However I have heard that he has weakened considerably over the years. There have been constant rebellions throughout the villages, and though countless lives were lost, his power is eroding thanks to their efforts."

"You have only heard. These rumors will do no good," Richard shook his head, staring down at the map. Azarath was a good eight days' worth of hard riding, through swamps and empty meadows. It would be difficult to hide in case of ambush.

"It would not be wise to sit back in earnest for their arrival," pointed out Victor, as he traced the path with a rod.

"But it will be hard on both the men and the horses to make an expedited journey into Azarath. We do not have the reinforcements or the supplies to strike first."

Victor nodded slowly. "Who would fight for such a demon? It is common knowledge that Gotham is by far the strongest and largest kingdom. No other realm would be foolhardy enough to ally themselves with Trigon."

"Tamaran, Jump, and Bludhaven are our allies through engagements or treaties. Would they be willing to aid us by sending troops?" Richard asked, gazing over the map.

"We do not know but we will send out messengers."

"Good. Let us see what we can come up with before we make further decisions," the prince decided.

Roy rolled up the map and began putting away the other papers. "Then this meeting is adjourned?"

Richard nodded. "Victor, have the messengers leave tonight."

"I will alert them now," Victor said and left.

"What do you think will happen?" Roy questioned. "Do you really think that there will be a war?" He thought of his engaged, Kor'iander of Tamaran, and sighed. They had only been betrothed for a brief two months, and the possibility of a war with Azarath soon in the future did not bode well.

"Do not worry Roy," Richard said firmly, knowing that the man was concerned about his engagement. "I am sure things will work out."

"I hope so." Roy said quietly, his face blank. "I hope so."

* * *

Raven was both furious and annoyed as she listened to Trigon drone on and on. Her father was once again gloating about how he would crush the pitiful forces of Gotham and then conquer the remaining kingdoms, who without Gotham, would fall like flies. 

Despite what people believed, she was not in any remote way, like Trigon. She was the spitting image of her mother, if not a bit paler. She did not have a thirst for blood or torture or pain, her father's passions. All she wanted to do was learn, and she often holed herself up in the libraries to read, far away from her imperious and malicious father. Unfortunately, she was guilty by association and often the target of slurs and threats.

She wished for her mother, but Arella had died long ago from the injuries inflicted upon her by Trigon's repeated abuse. One day he took it too far, and killed her, her head thrown back at a sharp angle, blood pooling around her still body. Raven could still remember her father calling for her to come, knowing how fond she was of her mother. When she saw the bloodied, mangled body of her mother, she fainted. She had been only five.

Now Raven was thirteen years older, but every night she still had the same gruesome nightmares. They continued to haunt her relentlessly, so that she could never really have a moment to herself in peace. They made her feel worthless, pathetic. How could she not try to help her mother? If she hadn't fainted perhaps her mother would've had a chance to survive if she received the necessary help quickly enough.

"Daughter, what do you think?" King Trigon sneered, interrupting her out of her boredom-induced reverie. His unruly white hair had ben pulled back, and the sumptuous black robes he wore did little to enhance his red-tinged skin. His beady black eyes bore into her overwhelmingly. "Have you lost your tongue wench?"

She glared at him, sick of his arrogance, his cruelty, sick of everything. To hell with it, she didn't care anymore. She had nothing to lose. "To be honest, I think you are an idiot." She said coolly, forcing herself to meet his gaze, to show that she didn't fear him anymore. Titters and gasps broke throughout the court.

With a roar of fury, the demon king rose from his throne and savagely backhanded her so that she flew out of her seat. "That will teach you to speak so impudently again, ungrateful bitch! Just like your whore of a mother." He added with a vicious smile, towering over her prone figure.

Raven forced herself up and wiped away the blood that dribbled from her lip with a sleeve. She smoothed back the purple strands that had fallen out of her bun. She would not be seen as weak and vulnerable anymore. Staring coldly at him, she said, "I am only giving voice to what everyone else is thinking." With that she stormed off, knowing he would not go after her. He had to save face after all.

Once she had left the throne room, she ran to her quarters to cry for her long-dead mother, for a better life filled with joy and love. But it would never come. She was doomed to this castle of death, for better or worse.

Her fate was inescapable.

* * *

_so what did you all think... was it good, bad?  
and don't worry, i will be updating clash of wills in a few days._


	2. Chapter 2

**T H E . S O L D I E R . a n d . T H E . S O R C E R E S S**

_a chaptered story by insensato_

disclaimer: teen titans will never be mine for the taking

_I didn't wanna keep you guys waiting so I finally updated, but I'm really disappointed with the chapter. It was all very well in my head but when I tried applying it to paper, it didn't work out the way I intended things to be. The characters are all so OOC, and some people out there would probably flame me or shoot me in the head but I've learned to deal with it. I know that just cos you're writing fanfiction doesn't mean you can completely warp the characters so that the only similarity is their physical appearance but I'm awful at characterization (and now some people are gonna be like "Wth are you doing writing then?". I also tried with the dialogue but the "thees" and "thous" just seemed too heavy-handed so I'll try to stick with a formal colloquial version._

_I think after this, I may go on hiatus for awhile because I'm just not feeling the urge. I have like maybe 15-20 percent of Clash of Wills's chapter 4 done. I had it plotted out perfectly in my head and then yeah.._

_Anyway, please read and review, it's much appreciated. I live for feedback.  
_

* * *

Raven ran a comb through her violet locks which cascaded around her, falling to her lower back. Memories of Arella patiently brushing her hair would always flash through her head, leaving her with guilty feelings if she were to take a pair of scissors to her tresses. However long hair was impractical, and Raven felt that it also represented excess, a common sign in Trigon's court, and she could not deal with an association like that. To compromise, she kept it to her waist. 

She sighed as she stared into the large mirror at the vanity. She vaguely recalled being compared to the classically-featured Arella, but she could never come close to matching her mother's beauty. She wished she had a photograph or an etching of her mother, something small she could keep in her pocket or in a locket round her neck. It hurt her that she had absolutely nothing from her mother, save for a simple hand mirror. After Arella's untimely death, Trigon had secretly destroyed her all belongings.

She would have run away long ago, but she couldn't bear the idea of leaving her mother's palace. Azarath had been the land of her mother and her mother's mothers, a matriarchal society until thirty years ago when Trigon arrived. He somehow managed to kill the original King and Queen and all of Arella's relatives and his other rivals. He forced Arella into marrying him, and impregnated her. After she gave birth to Raven, Trigon became increasingly physically abusive towards his wife until that fateful day, when he struck her and she never got herself back up again.

Raven's knowledge of her homeland was filled with gaps, as Trigon had had all the history books conveniently burnt, and forbidden her from going to the villages to speak with the people. Not that the villagers would have spoken with her, as far as they were concerned, she was demon spawn. She was basically confined to the castle, which fortunately was not such a horrible fate in thanks to the secret library she had chanced upon. Despite the books that could let her mentally travel to places she could only dream of, she wished she knew more about Azarath's past, for her mother had always spoken of a wondrous city of learning. And now, the land was barren and filled with misery thanks to Trigon.

Raven's eyes narrowed at the thought of her father. She trembled as waves of rage overtook her and had to force the emotions out of her head. She would not lose control and give into rage or vengeance. She would not be like him.

With a sigh, the princess got up to go to the library that only she frequented. She had discovered it one day, tired of resting by the fallow grounds or in her chambers. There were a few old tomes that spoke of healing magics, and so far, the books had proven interesting and rewarding. She was grateful for her father's extreme dislike of literature, for if he found out that there were books that taught magic, albeit white magic, he would have his henchmen scouring the room and defiling the shelves looking for books that taught darker forms. Of course she doubted that he didn't already have men with magical abilities.

And if Trigon discovered that she could do magic as well... Raven forced the thought out of her head. She didn't want to consider what she might be forced to do.

"Azarath metrion zinthos," she whispered and a small ball of light appeared in her outstretched left hand, guiding her down the dimly lit corridors. It was fortunate that there were no functions tonight that required her presence.

* * *

"It won't do any good, I think we should have a small scouting party sent ahead to assess Azarath's preparation and landscape," Roy remarked as he stared at the large map that lay on the table. To the west of Gotham lay Bludhaven, to the east, Jump, and to the south, Tameran. A wide stretch of rocky moutains and swamps separated the four kingdoms from Azarath. Because no one had ever gone there and returned sane or alive for that matter, no one knew what exactly the region was like. 

Victor shook his head. "Who would be willing to go? We certainly can't send footsoldiers. They're inexperienced in scouting thoroughly and would probably be too scared to want to journey to an unknown land."

King Bruce rubbed his chin thoughtfully, reclining in a hard-backed wooden chair. He was in his early fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair and slight stubble on his stern face. He tended to be a somber, reflective man, a marked contrast from his vivacious wife Diana, who though in her late forties, looked as though she were still in her mid-twenties. "Perhaps one of you can lead two or three others for a few days. We don't need Azarath's entire perimeter surveyed, and general descriptions are fine enough."

"I'll go," Roy and Victor both said in unison and glared at one another. There was always a sense of friendly competition amongst the two. Though they knew that they were equal in the prince's eyes, Richard had to formally declare one his second man and the other his third man. Victor liked to point out the fact that he was the prince's second man while Roy would retort with a mangled idiom in poor context

that "Third's the charm."

The silver-haired king frowned. "We can't have both of you off on this expedition. One of you has to stay behind as well to train and lead the contingents later on."

"Well I believe I should go, because I am an archer and can shoot from far distances to protect myself, should the need arise. I am an excellent sniper."

"No, I should go, because I won't run out of arrows and I can deal quite well in hand-to-hand for an extended period of time," Victor countered. "I'm especially proficient with the mace and club for the blow that keeps the enemy down indefinitely."

"Are you suggesting my aim is subpar?" Roy asked incredulously. "You're suggesting that the man who can shoot bullseyes atop a horse galloping at full speed or from a mile can't aim for the vital areas?" Tension rose between the two men, threading itself around them.

"Enough," Prince Richard interjected as he strode forward. "Both of you have your own individual strengths and weaknesss and offer your own advantages for leading. But I think I should be the one to lead this scouting expedition."

"With all due respect son," King Bruce began slowly, as he tried to think of more diplomatic terms to put what he intended to say, "I am not doubting your abilities, but you are a prince. You cannot mean to go into a strange land where horrors and traps alike await. You are the heir to the throne, and if you were to perish, there would be much conflict over who would be next in line."

"Victor and Roy are not expendable either," Richard responded, a bit incensed. "You have to stop thinking of me as a child, father. I am twenty years old. I am a man now, a man who can and will fight for his land."

"And I too," Victor voiced.

Roy nodded. "I as well. Could we all not go? With the three of us, we could more quickly survey the land as we are all proficient. There would be no time wasted training inexperienced men or exposing them to whatever it is that Azarath offers."

King Bruce shook his head. "I cannot allow it. The possibility of being captured or killed is too high to sacrifice all of you, especially you," he said as he stared reprovingly at his son. "Think of what the other nobles will say--'Oh Gotham had to send its prince to do a soldier's work.'"

Richard grunted. Sometimes he hated being a prince for it made his life all the more complex. "Garth is just as able a commander."

"But he is not as dynamic as you three are. Though he is wise, he is soft-spoken. Men need someone more formiddable to allow themselves to be led," the King replied. "Perhaps Victor, Roy and Garth may embark upon this trip then, as a compromise of sorts."

"I refuse to be exempted because of my birth," The prince argued, a bit of anger creeping into his voice. He didn't understand why his father always had to set him up on a higher up pedestal than his companions. "You know I am capable. I train just as much as Victor, Roy and Garth do."

"As I have said, Richard, I do not doubt your abilities but do not forget that you are a prince. First in line to the throne. What would they say if they heard that I have sent you on a death mission?"

The black-haired prince shook his head. "If you are not skeptical, then you will allow me to go. Roy is right to suggest that the three of us go as we will complement one another and be able to lead a thorough reconnaissance."

"I cannot allow it." The king responded determinedly. His son could be so unreasonably stubborn sometimes. Didn't Richard understand what would happen if the people were to find out that Gotham had to send its only prince upon a reconnaissance mission? Conspiracies and plots would arise, and unification was extremely important as Gotham and its allies took the first steps prior to war. "I could not have said this enough. You are the heir to the kingdom. You cannot go fight a war that is not yours to fight."

Victor sighed and looked down at the stone floor before looking up again, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "With all due respect, sir, if we have made up our minds to go, then we will go, regardless of your approval. I am most apologetic to suggest that events may come this far that we must disregard your orders."

King Bruce kneaded his forehead with a hand, wondering what to do. To be young again, to be an adventure-seeker, to journey to the unknown... it was an era that had passed long ago in his life. Oh to hell with it and society's whisperings. "I see no point in attempting to argue against your stubborn logic. Very well then. You have my blessing and prayers." He eyed his son with a glint in his eye. "Don't come to me when your mother finds out."

Richard smiled and bowed. "Your approval is very much appreciated father." The three young men then grinned at one another. "To Azarath!" They chorused and left to prepare, leaving the king behind to reflect upon the map and what lay in store to come.

"Have I sent them to certain death?"

* * *

_and that ends chapter two._

_The Black Crow: Raven is 18... i guess you mighta read a bit too fast cos i do that sometimes and miss something :p_

_TTFan: thanks for that pm. to keep it simple for my sake, azarath will be on its own_

_abyssus angelus: of course it'll be a rae/rob fic hehe. i'll probably have them meet in chapter 3 or 4, assuming i get that far_

_inner universe: Gar is 10. Richard, Roy and Victor are all 20. Kori is 19 and Raven is 18._

_Jordanals: yeah i wanted to stick with writing in modern dialogue but it seemed kinda weird so like i said, i'm gonna use formal colloquial english_

_Novemberscorpion110388: hehe the names of the lands are the names of the cities/worlds _

_dragonslayerraven: wow actually i never even thought of the romeo & juliet association... hmm maybe i'll take that into play a little bit_

_and to all the other reviewers--thank you so much for taking the time to leave a comment or two. i would respond to everyone's but then you'd all think i wrote a lot for the chapter itself when in fact it comes from my babbling so i'll just respond to like questioning/open-ended reviews __  
_


	3. Chapter 3

**T H E . S O L D I E R . a n d . T H E . S O R C E R E S S**

_a chaptered story by insensato_

disclaimer: teen titans will never be mine for the taking

_Here we are with chapter three! Yep I have no excuse for updating so late. Sorry this chapter sucks, in case you haven't already noticed, I'm bad at writing scenes with lots of conversation. If it were up to me war would already be raging on and all but then it wouldn't have half the detail I'm plotting. Actually no... never mind hehehe. I mean it can't not be up to me.. I'm writing lol! So let's just accept my writing is bad and needs loads of improvement.  
_

_Spread-My-Wingz-And-Soar: it's gonna be a rob/rae but there might be a little twist ;)_

_RobRae5000: sorry if everyone's OOC... in the next few chapters prolly everyone is horribly ooc. some people can't take that but it's okay. btw i'm horrible at writing cyborg and speedy in case you didn't notice lol_

_angelus abyssi: you flatter me! i hope your fairy comes back so you can update all your wonderful fics_

_Novemberscorpion110388: yep queen diana is wonderwoman_

_Dark Forbidding: i think i pretty much gave up writing old-fashioned style :p_

_HeadGoddessofCynicism: just updated now didn't i xD_

* * *

Dawn broke through the inky blackness of the night, as the sun began its ascent into its celestial throne. Slivers of light pierced through the slowly retreating clouds, casting shadows of sorts upon the landscape. It was quiet, as was befitting for the great kingdom of Gotham at such an early hour, save for the occasional whinnying of a horse or snatches of conversation between three men. 

Richard Grayson, Roy Harper and Victor Stone were leaving the safe and respected confines of their homeland to travel into the dangerous unknown of Azarath. It was a mission many others were loathe to take, from the rumors that swirled over the desolateness of the fallen kingdom to the known viciousness of its king. But these three men were no cowards, and held Gotham high in their hearts, alongside friendship, family and fealty.

Their horses let out a collective whinny as they half-trotted, half-galloped down the well-worn roads. The prince led with his black stallion, Nightwing. Flanking the two were Roy and his roan horse Starfire on the left and Victor and his horse Bee on the right. They rode in a perfect V formation, their weapons at the ready though they had no worries nor fears for the first two-to-three days' worth of travel.

"We should have left later on," Roy lamented.

"The roads would be swarming with merchants and others then," Richard replied. "We would never make time."

The archer smiled. "But at least we would be leaving with feelings of glory and adoration, with the townsfolk cheering us brave men on--"

Victor snorted. "Roy Harper, it is just like you to be concerned with--"

"Let us not spoil the mood with trivial bickering," Richard interrupted. "After all, they'd only be cheering me on," he added with a grin. The other men roared with laughter and they rode on.

_**Hours later...**_

"We should break here for the night," Roy suggested, looking into the darkening horizon as Starfire drank water from a small cheerful brook. "There are many oak trees here to provide shelter, and I am sure we will be able to catch a deer."

"A deer is too much meat for us to handle," Victor pointed out. "Skinning it and preparing its flesh alone would take at least a day, and usually it's the womenfolk who do it. Men like us, we are--"

Richard rolled his eyes. "Yes, men like us are above such demeaning work. Perhaps we should catch some rabbits instead then."

"Or we could start on our rations," suggested Roy as he dismounted from his horse. The mare whinnied as he tethered her to a tree and he offered her a carrot which she gladly took.

"No, rations are for when we're nearing Azarath. God knows what lives in an area like that. Let us eat freshly-hunted meat while we can," Victor responded as he tied his bay gelding to a tree. "I'll go find some firewood."

"We should keep the fire small so that it is containable and does not attract attention," Richard advised as he walked Nightwing to cool down. "It does not matter that we are probably still a good two to three days' ride to Azarath. You never know what will happen or what's lurking out there."

Victor nodded and checked to make sure his dagger was strapped to his belt. "I will return soon. Do not roast the meat without me!"

Roy grinned. "My turn to hunt!"

"You're not going to waste time and make some small arrows right now, are you?" the prince asked annoyedly. "I do not see why you cannot use your regular arrows... it always takes you an hour to craft perhaps ten darts."

"I have always been known for my proficiency with the bow and the crafting of my arrows," Roy began smugly and stopped with a scowl when he realized Richard had thrown a pebble at him. "Ah you are just jealous of my skill."

"Go find some wood already," Richard grumbled, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The red-haired man snorted and began whittling away at some sticks.

The prince looked around as he began clearing the ground, brushing away any debris. Afterwards he collected some large rocks to border round the campfire and collected some smaller branches for kindling. As he finished, Victor returned with a large load of wood for the fire and set up the branches.

"You fool! You're still crafting those damn arrows," Victor groaned.

"Patience be with you," Roy laughed. "I shall fetch us three hares now," he said and left to go hunt.

"We still have at least a good three to five days of riding if we have the horses gallop," Richard commented from his seat on a log.

"I'd rather we save our asses and the horses' legs," Victor said. "We're only doing reconnaissance anyway, there's not much of a pressing time concern is there?"

A frown pulled at Richard's lips. "If King Trigon is indeed raising troops, we must survey the land as quickly as we can to prepare for war."

"We have sorcerers at the ready, do we not?"

"They're all arrogant bastards," Richard growled. He hated the "wizards," as the men preferred to call themselves. They were nothing more than self-centered show-offs who liked to intimidate. "Show them real war, and they would run and hide behind the castle walls with the excuse of preparation. It is real men like us, who would bear the brunt of war. They are not the heroes they parade themselves to be."

Victor raised a brow. "Such resentment you have."

The prince sighed. "They were responsible for the death of my parents."

"I do not need to know--"

"No, I suppose it is high time I confide in you... after all, you are my most trusted. Only my adopted parents and those bastards themselves know," Richard said quietly.

"Know what?" A new voice chipped in.

"Roy! Have you come with our meal?" Victor boomed, looking up at the archer.

"Of course I have. Four rabbits," he beamed. "But as you were saying Richard..."

"I was about to tell Victor why I despise the wizards."

"That so? Pray do tell," Roy said as he sat down and pulled out a knife to skin the rabbits.

"You speak with a tone expectant of something lewd," Richard noted before his tone became serious. "I was perhaps six or seven when they killed my parents. It was an accident," he said in a manner that clearly said it wasn't. "The wizards had put on a little exhibition to show their affinity with magic. They had barged into the armory to use weapons for their show. Everyone had cautioned them against such a thing, for the possibility of injury was too great, but the wizards mocked them and called them cowardly before continuing on. As they began causing spears and swords to fly about, doing stupid tricks, one of them lost control of a rapier he had been causing to spin and the rapier sunk into my mother's chest. My father let out a shout and was about to kill the man when the other fools also lost control. That day, those bumbling bastards killed fourteen people. They weren't trained nor experienced enough, and yet they felt confident enough to put on such a show."

"God... what happened to the wizards?" Roy asked in disbelief at the horror of such a story. And to witness the death of one's parents as well...

"They were tried. The judge, a modern thinker, called the whole affair 'a most grievous accident' and fined those men several thousand pounds. A pittance for the deaths of fourteen innocent people, who wanted only a bit of entertainment after a long day. Fortunately the king had a more sensible head and ordered their exile, for the queen was against capital punishment." Richard said, anger clouding his eyes. "But exile was better than a stupid fine. And even though the sorcerers of today are more prudent, they are still exhibitionists at heart."

Victor shook his head. "It is amazing the faith some have in magic. I find it too fickle to be trustworthy."

The prince chuckled bitterly. "And yet unfortunately half the court advisors believe so strongly in magic. Thank god the king has faith in the muscle of man and not some foolish mental play."

"Come, let us eat." Roy said, as he offered them the roasted meat. "Too much heavy thoughts drag down young hearts such as ours."

* * *

"We promise three hundred," the raspy voice of Blaze, ambassador of the kingdom of Firenze, boomed. Firenzian fighters were known for their affinity with fire magic. Their armor was red, symbolic of their power. 

"Five hundred," added Quill, representative of the kingdom of Sharpe, whose soldiers were proficient with spears and arrows.

Another man stepped forward. Unlike the others, he had half his face masked in gold, adding to his mystery. His figure was cut impressively and mystery and danger oozed from his aura. In a low voice, he murmured, "I am the lieutenant, King Trigon's second, and I will take control of the men." The others did not disagree, almost as awed by him as they were Trigon.

"Slade, your selflessness will not go unnoticed. You will have first pick of the fallen kingdoms and my daughter's hand." King Trigon smirked and clapped his hands together. "Excellent. Your generous contributions bring the total of men to five thousand. There is no shadow of a doubt that we will crush the pathetic armies of Gotham and its little allies. The world shall be ours!"

* * *

Raven skulked away from behind the curtains, her fists clenched in anger. There was no hope for the Inner kingdoms if her father had already amassed five thousand men. From what she could recall, the most the Inner kingdoms could call up in response would be a few thousand. That would be no match for the ten thousand troops Trigon was sure to have within a few days' time. The offer of dividing up the Inner kingdoms, of their wealth, their women and their land, was too tempting to resist. Any who disagreed with Trigon would quickly change their mind... with some intense persuasion. 

She had to act fast. Without a moment's hesitance she dashed towards her room. Grabbing a small satchel, she began packing what little she needed, her five most important books and Arella's old mirror. She also added two small daggers and a short sword, along with what little coins she had. There was no way she could get rations without incurring suspicion, she would have to make do with foraging and hunting.

She then murmured a little spell to seal the libraries from any with impure intentions. Slade's involvement in the war complicated things, not to mention the possibility of her betrothal to him. He was a frightening figure, and rumors that swirled over him were just as spine-tingling as the ones about her father.

She shuddered and glanced about her room one last time. The room that had been her prison for the past--

"Miss Raven?"

"Who goes there!" Raven snapped, whirling around.

"It is I, Jinx," the nineteen-year-old servant girl murmured. She was tall and terribly skinny from lack of nourishment. Her light pink hair fell limply round her hollow face. "Cook has me inform you dinner will be served well after sunset."

"Very well, now go," Raven urged. She didn't have time.

Jinx tilted her head. "What is wrong miss?"

"I'm fine, just tired. I feel a headache. Tell cook I am retiring to bed."

"You lie miss. It hurts me that you do not trust me," she said quietly. She was a good judge of character and quite sincere.

Raven bit her lip. Jinx, her maid and servant, was the only constant in her life aside from her domineering father and the suspicious Slade. The girl was so starkly honest, that the princess couldn't help but have second thoughts. Perhaps Jinx could accompany her? It would do a world of good for the girl, who was beaten for even the most minor issue, no matter her involvement.

"Jinx... what I am about tell you... you must not breathe a word to anyone alright?" Raven said at last, making her decision.

"I swear," the girl nodded.

"How would you like to go?"

"Go where miss?"

"Away. Far away."

"What for miss?"

"To get away from all this, to warn the Inner kingdoms..."

Jinx's dark pink eyes widened. "Miss, what you speak of is treason against the king!"

"Jinx, I need to know your answer," Raven hissed, preparing a memory adjustment spell in case she needed it. She couldn't have Jinx warn the others of her intentions. If she were caught, there would be hell to pay.

"I fear what may happen if we are caught. I am also ashamed to admit I fear more my daily beatings," Jinx murmured. "I will go where the princess goes."

Raven sighed with relief and banished the spell. "Is there anything you have to bring?"

"No miss," Jinx responded. "I own nothing, not even the rags on my back."

The princess nodded and went over to her wardrobe, pulling out a simple gray hooded cloak and handing it to the girl. "Here take this. It should be long enough to cover you from head to toe. Let us leave now. If we are lucky, no one will notice us til tomorrow at the earliest." With that Raven shut the door and locked it. She pulled up the quilt on her bed over the mass of clothes, to make it appear as if though someone were sleeping. She also made sure her hood covered her features. Then she looked about her room one last time. "Jinx."

"Yes miss?"

"What I am about to do may scare you. But you are not to make one sound, alright?" The servant nodded earnestly. "Azarath Metrion Zinthos!" A flash of black light enveloped the two girls, and true to her word, Jinx stayed quiet though her eyes betrayed her shock and fear.

Raven prayed the spell would bring them far enough from the castle so that if she was found missing, there would be enough time for them to get away. Her ideal destination would be the outskirts of the Romara village, farthest from the castle and near the Black Forest, aptly named.

Of course she should have checked to make sure there was no one in the corridors when Jinx had come in and she had explained what she was doing. But she was in a hurry. Such slips were liable to happen.

Blue eyes glittered with malice in the dimly lit hall as the figure pulled away from Raven's locked door. "Little birdie's flying the coop," the figure sang.

* * *


End file.
